The Scythe, the Staff, You and Me - Sequel to the Winged Girl
by RapunzelInTheSnow
Summary: Valentina is in trouble. So is Bran. Sandy's worried, so's Pitch, although he's also mourning, and Jack isn't sure what's going on. And now there's the Morrigan's daughter... This is yet another dreadful summary, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Snow here! I want to know what you think of this fan fiction I'm writing. I own nothing (apart from Val, Maria, Bran, Hallow, Joker, Grim and Cupid) but I do like to write!**

Trying not to cry. Trying to keep my sense of guilt from destroying me, and by the way failing miserably. Goddamnit hormones.

A smile filled my thoughts, and I began to cry, as I remembered everything again and again.

Bran had been my best friend, and sacrificed himself to save me and Jack. He got sucked into Grim's scythe, and now Pitch has lost everything. I don't want to break. I don't want to cry because it feels like I'll never stop.

Jack has thrown himself into the winter season so I took my castle and flew away, hiding among the clouds that I had soared past so often. We don't want to be around each other and it's killing me. I know that I love the winter spirit. But we both feel like we killed our best friend and end up blaming each other. It's nicer to be able to mourn on my own. No one judging my dry eyes. North won't say anything but I know he wonders why I won't cry. I sit in the old and battered chair, and fall into a drowsy state, feeling the presence of Bran from the shadow realms. At least he isn't dead. I broke down into tears again.

Why did you do it Bran? I'm not worth your life.

/

Jack collapsed onto a tree branch, as the blizzard flurried over York. Great. He had done his job and avoided his girlfriend.

He did love her, he did. They were just torn apart by Bran's death. Every single thing seemed to crop up as a memory of the Nightmare Prince's smile. He wished he knew how to make Val feel less guilty. He wished he could be by her side. But he couldn't, and now she was at the Pole as far as he knew. He wished he could bear with her but she didn't want to be near anyone at the moment. She was like a beam of moonlight; resting for a short sweet while, before running away, and if you chased the beam, maybe you could catch it. But Bran's 'death' had been the sun. It had turned her into an invisible being; something you knew was there but couldn't really see.

He loved her. He loved her and he wanted her to smile again, to look after Nightlight and be happy in his arms and chase him around and fly by his side…

Tears began to drip down his face, as his fears and feelings overflowed to create the saltwater. It wasn't fair. It was dreadful and he missed Val, but he knew he was making excuses not to comfort her.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he whirled around to meet a witch's hat and accusing blue eyes.

"Hi, Hallow."

Hallow gritted her teeth. "Don't you give me that despondent-teenage-boy thing. You know you can come see us if you're upset, but you never do." She looked directly at him. "But that's not why I came, narcissist. Val's gone AWOL, again. Would it kill you to keep an eye on your girlfriend when you know that she's depressed? If you had an ounce of decency …You maybe be Snow Bieber but I didn't think you were that bad." She stamped a foot in emphasis, and glared at him, which was pretty scary seeing as she was the spirit of Halloween.

Jack sighed. "Why are you here, Hal?" She rolled her eyes. "Hello? York? Ghost Central?" She flung her hat at him. "You are avoiding the subject, and don't think I don't know what you're doing, idiot! You know you should find her, so why the hell aren't you helping her?"

"Because she doesn't want me to." Jack floated upwards and Hallow followed him. "She needs you to, though!" Hallow picked up her hat, and turned around. "I give up. You never listen to anyone, Frost." She slapped a hand over her eyes. "All boys are idiots! Including bloody Joker!"

Jack stood stock still, blinking as Hallow left him. Maybe he didn't listen when people gave him advice, and maybe he would always make mistakes and not learn from them, but he could do without everyone feeling that they had to tell him that. He wasn't psychic, but his girlfriend was and she hadn't made any attempt to contact him. He felt he'd lost her, but still knew she just didn't want to talk to him. And that really stung.

Besides, Hallow never listened, either.

/

Sandy saw the mist and frowned. It shouldn't be there, really, so what was it? It seemed to be moving at quite a rate, and not as mist should. As the mist passed over the frowning Guardian of Dreams, he noticed it had a distinctly castle like appearance underneath.

Valentina! Valentina and her stupid flying castle! **(Author's note: Sandy has been looking for her for about three weeks, so he's not a happy Sandy.) **So she had been flying it around like he'd suspected. Trouble was, she probably had magical defences. Oh well. He could at least give it a shot. He sighed and flew upwards to knock on the drawbridge. The sun glinted off of metal and he heard wheels.

"_My Mistress says go away." _The little robot appeared at the battlements, and Sandy shrugged, flying up to gesture at it that he didn't particularly care.

"_My Mistress says to really leave her alone, as she's not particularly well." _Sandy frowned before sensing something odd. Another person in the castle?

"_My Mistress says she doesn't know about anyone else in the castle."_

Sandy could clearly sense another mind somewhere in the castle, that of a child's. Somewhere. He worried and suddenly realisation hit him like a brick before he tried to get in the castle, panicking. Valentina was in trouble, and he needed to get her out of there _now._

"_Sorry, Mr Sandman." _The robot created a portal and he found himself in the Pole, with the Yetis staring at him.

He raced off, trying to find North, and burst into the workshop. A sound of smashing came and North turned round furiously, eyebrows trembling like caterpillars seconds away from a killing spree.

"I told you to knock! Oh…"

He smiled wearily. "Did you find her?" He expected a negative but Sandy created images above his head. _Why do you think I'm here? Of course I did._

He widened his eyes. "You did. Where is she?" He looked around for her but Sandy shook his head, and North somehow realised what had happened.

"Doesn't she need us?" North asked sadly, and Sandy sweat dropped.

_Yes, and no._

"What do you mean by that, Sandy? Either Valentina needs us or she doesn't."

Sandy slapped a palm to his face. _Put it this way, in a short while she is going to need our help. _North didn't understand, and Sandy decided to keep it to himself for a little while longer. Until North managed to figure it out. The large Russian looked into his eyes. "Where were you when you found her?" North asked, rolling out a map onto a small workbench, and picking up a drawing pin. _Just over Spain, _Sandy signalled and sat down, taking the pin from North. Sandy spiked the location and North slumped. "I do not know whether to go after her or not. She chose to leave. She chose this." Sandy nodded, but felt guilt invade his heart. Valentina would really, really, seriously need them in a little while.

A groan came from the corner. "This isn't going to work." Both Guardians jumped and North gave a high pitched squeal. Joker's purple hair appeared over a box with limpid unhappy eyes. "She's scarpered, gone and I'm wasted on eggnog."

"Vhat!" North's Russian accent came out in his worry. "Why did you drink that stuff?" He rushed over and shook Joker by the shoulders.

"Because like you I am worried and you made the eggnog too strong." Joker smiled, hiccupped and passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

North half dragged Joker along to one of the spare rooms, as the purple haired spirit wailed for eggnog. This kind of thing was never pretty, admittedly, but he had made the eggnog very strong… for other people. He never found it to have that much of a kick.

While North dealt with the intoxicated teen, Sandy mulled over his discovery, shocked almost to the core by it. Valentina hadn't told anyone, it seemed, as Jack would be worrying even more about her. One of the things that the Guardian of Dreams could never figure out about the heir of the Lunanoffs was that she never seemed to realise exactly how much she managed to worry those who loved her. She was, in fact, oblivious. She would go around in a haze, and never see how much people needed to know that she was okay. For crying out loud, she was telepathic! How did she manage not to notice? How did she even manage on her own? She was so easily hurt, too.

And now there was this extremely delicate… _situation. _Her father didn't know about it, certainly, otherwise he would have panicked and brought her to his palace for the time being. In fact, Valentina probably didn't know now that he thought about it. She was once again thick skinned towards reality. And while it was often endearing, this time that particular trait had placed her in direct danger.

He started suddenly, realising he'd taken precious time out of his schedule to think about this. He had to get going, or his belief rates would drop. He'd have to worry about Valentina later. In fact, he could probably visit her on his way.

So I'd just sent the Sandman away via robot. And what the hell was he on about in his little sandy mind? A kid?

I mean, what was he even on about? A child's mind? Slightly worried, I cast out telepathic vibes to try and find but screamed as they echoed in my own mind.

It hurt. For the first time in ages I thought about something other than my relationship or Bran and concentrated on the pounding horrible headache I'd managed to give myself. It hurt and I heard a child's mental wail, a baby's cry and stiffened.

Now, there might have been a few times where I have been oblivious, but this time I decided to turn to the Sandman's thoughts as a reference and search for this kid. I got up out of the armchair and started to walk around the room, but couldn't find this kid. The thing was, this castle had a million hiding places for a child. But I gave up on the third floor. I felt horrible for doing so, and guilt made me resume.

I mean, even if I was in a state (which I knew I was), I wouldn't want a kid trapped here. I tentatively sent out a weak telepathic vibe, which only got the response of a snuffling noise and a twinge of headache. The snuffling noise was coming from a very close mind and it unnerved me. I ran back to the room, and it was like that feeling when you're sure the shadow in the corner is going to move, but you don't want to look at it in case it did. Pure molten fear coursed through me and I shook.

Okay, so I could talk to someone, or I could curl up and go to sleep, and carry on giving them all the cold shoulder. I decided to pick the latter, and search for the kid later.

Pitch appeared in the shadows of the castle, and watched over Val as she slept. Recently he had made up his mind about this. He'd lost one child. He wasn't going to lose his friend's daughter (Maria, obviously, is his friend) either. She murmured in her sleep and wrapped both arms instinctively around her stomach, and Pitch frowned. He'd seen that before, hadn't he? His mental eye certainly recognised and he began to mull over it.

He continued to watch throughout the night, even as golden sand touched Val's forehead and created an image of her talking to a crow. While she dreamt, the Nightmare King stood guard over her. Wracking his brains, he tried to remember where exactly he had seen that before. She breathed evenly, and as he watched, hugged her own stomach protectively again, a little magical shield of some sort shimmering above it.

Pitch waited until the rays of morning sunshine hit him and he fled back to his lair. Where, it must be said, bad memories awaited him, of Bran and his mother, phantoms who laughed at him in just a memory, and of Bran reading on his own in the library as a child.

A memory of Bran's mother flashed through Pitch's mind and he gaped, frozen with shock. So that was where he had seen that before, then. He stayed still, struck with a sense of foreboding.

Jack sat on a branch again, before watching an odd patch of mist, uncertain.

It probably wasn't.

But then it probably was. Oh well.

He leapt for it, and smacked into the wall of the castle, which hurt ( imagine being hit by a freaking tank which decides to do it again), but decided to scale the walls. He arrived at a window and opened it with a cold breeze. Tumbling in, he landed in a heap and got whacked over the head.

"Ow!"

Val stared down at him with eyes that still held the traces of sleep. She frowned down at him, still holding the staff and blinked, before her eyes shimmered with tears and unhappiness. "What the hell are you doing here, Frost?" She turned swiftly away from him and the staff disappeared. "It's winter."

He scrambled upwards, determined not to let her think he didn't care (because Val, as previously proved, could sulk for ages). "Yeah, it's winter! It's also a time that I want to see you. Do you even know that they have been worrying themselves sick over you? Or that I have? Or even that I still do?" Jack tried to catch a hold of her hand but she fled out of reach, a kind of fear in her eyes.

"Look, Jack, I am sorry. But I need to deal with this by myself. You just need to create snow, okay? I've just got to be alone for a while." She wiped her eyes and tried to head for the door.

Jack snapped, seizing her wrists. "It's been a while! You need to talk to people, or you'll turn into a heartless, mad old lady! And you'll keep cats"

She tried to shake him off. "Let me go!" She kicked at him with a strength she didn't know she had and collapsed with him still holding her, shocked from what she'd just experienced.

"My adrenaline levels have gone up."

Jack wrapped his arms around her, and she shakily hugged him back. "Sorry." He smiled a little and picked her up in his arms. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

"Can your robot man the castle?"

She nodded before burying her fingers in his ice white hair and crying, tears just racing down her cheeks. _**Sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me.**_

He smiled down at her, and held her slightly closer. "Always. You know why?"

She shook her head, and he cupped her chin so that she looked at him properly.

"Because I love you, and I'm not willing to lose you – especially not to yourself."


	3. Chapter 3

**So yes, if you can guess why everyone is worried about Val I will be very happy. At the moment it's meant to be cryptic but I'm guessing it's easy to work out.**

**Val: I thought I was meant to be awesome and butt kicking?**

**RitS: Yeah, sorry, but my evil side is being evil… **

**Andrea Bacallado - You'll see if you stay tuned, and it's a bit of a cliché. I'm very happy you reviewed this!**

**Guest – No, North shouldn't make the eggnog too strong but he does anyway because he can't really tell when he has.**

**Mystichawk – I'm glad you liked the story! The robot is actually based on a robot from the Guardians of Childhood books by William Joyce.**

**sasha taylor – Val will be okay, I guess… Unless I feel extremely evil. I'm glad (extremely glad) that you liked my story.**

**ON WITH THE STORY! It's Bran this time!**

Grim sighed contentedly as he held the scythe – Bran, rather – in his arms, drinking in the clinging emotions of the souls his new weapon had reaped. It was a gorgeous thing to have his full amount of power back, to be able to sever the bonds of life as he once had an age ago. The scythe may have been emotionless, but it was deadly and sang when it cut through the air.

So the Nightmare King had lost his son, boo hoo. Grim hadn't exactly achieved his heart's desire, seeing as ideally Val would have become his and cut off her relationship with Jack and become a stereotyped Queen of Darkness, but having a powerful scythe was rather better than nothing. And this scythe was potentially more powerful than Val would have been by his side.

It was the raw hybrid power that enchanted Grim about this. Even if Bran was inside the weapon, he didn't particularly care as long as the scythe was okay.

And it wasn't too bad, was it?

/

Bran shook in the small magical metal room, huddled in the corner and shaking. The deaths. The thoughts of the dead swirled throughout his mind and screamed out to him, pleading for his mercy while his power was ripped from him to strip their life force away from them. The ghosts stayed with him while more died and casts of thousands freaking screamed profanities and sad stories at him.

He really wanted to get out, but the room didn't have a door. What was the point in a room that didn't have a door? This was insane, and he wanted it to end. He didn't think he could put up with this much longer. There was that horrible girl, the Morrigan's daughter, who had been killed by the scythe and came to talk at him for hours at a time.

A ghost tapped his shoulder and he turned his head (did he still have a head?) towards her. Oh, great. It was Little Miss Annoying Ray of Sunshine herself.

"Hey, so I was wondering, what's it like giving him all this power?" Her eyes shone. By the shadows, she was sincerely and utterly obsessed with Grim, and he wouldn't have liked to have been in Grim's shoes had she managed to become his scythe. As the daughter of the dread goddess she could appear in three aspects, but for him usually chose to appear as a teenager with dreadlocked red hair, gothic crimson top and orange jeans. She looked like a barefoot pumpkin that had been set aflame.

"I find it to be pure purgatory," he spat, turning and facing the wall.

She made a face. "You would think that. I'd have loved to do what you're doing. I literally died for it. You're just an ungrateful priss." She turned her back on him and began to sing a little and he closed his eyes and basked in the music. She may have been annoying and obsessive and creepy, but she was a good singer.

He thought of something and fought the death filling his mind to talk to her. "Don't you miss your mother?"

She blinked, and seemingly mulled it over. "I guess I do slightly, but she doesn't really care for me. She may be up in arms about my death, but she never would have cared had I not died in the process." Her hair fell over her face and he guessed she was crying. He got up and awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders, thankful for once he was inside the staff so that he didn't simply pass through her.

She looked up in surprise. "Hey, I thought you were in purgatory." He looked at her, very embarrassed. "I am. But you are too, so…" He removed his arm and went to sit back down. "It's awful, knowing that so many people die. He only stops taking souls when he decides to go out and even then this bloody prison takes people's lives."

She looked at him. "Ah, it's the deaths that bother you? That's why Val would have been ideal, she could have telethingummy blocked them. He always was so set on getting that little Princess to become his queen…"

He turned back to her. "It's telepathically. And it still would have bothered her, and she would have broken the scythe. And she wouldn't have ever become his queen. She loves Jack, for one, and she loves the people of Earth for another. She will never associate herself with the person who tortured Fabian, if you need another reason." He tried not to let this stuck up little girl get to him, but in truth that plan wasn't working very well.

She stared at him. "You're a dark spirit too. Why are you so close to her?" She seemed actually amazed that he knew anything at all about the Lunar Princess. He sighed. "Because I tried to use her for my own means too, and ended up becoming friends with her due to a fault." He really didn't want to discuss stuff like that with her when she was completely blinded by her love for Grim, and when in all probability she wouldn't understand.

She came a little closer. "Do you love her?" He was surprised by her understanding and nodded. "She's like my sister and Jack is my brother. When I first met her, I did fall a little way in love with her but soon she was my best friend rather than a love interest. I wouldn't let anything harm the two of them-"

"And you didn't," she continued for him, a little smile upon her face, that for once was rather genuine and kind. "You protected the people you loved. I've always just messed up to get attention. My mom was never a mumsy type if you know what I mean, and she always left me to my own devices. Grim told me I was powerful, and I know he loves power. He made me feel worthwhile so I wanted to help him when his scythe began to crack. He was utterly distraught. I couldn't protect him from that even though I love him."

Bran chuckled in a bitter manner. "Really?" He sincerely doubted that. She simply had a crush that had turned into obsession with Grim. She glared at him before vanishing. Ah, well. For a short while there she had been good company. And she was right; he had protected the people that he loved. But they probably didn't see it like that, if he knew anything about the pair of them. Jack was probably blaming himself and Valentina was most likely on her own or with him feeling absolutely miserable. He had to get out of here…

What about Grim? He was probably happy, and from what Bran had been able to learn about him that was a bit of a rare occurrence. Did he have the right to take away that happiness? And would that girl forgive him?

It was a tricky problem, if you wanted to put it lightly. He wished he could call her back and ask her what her name was. She probably knew his, but he didn't know hers. Maybe he could get through this if they kept each other company.

He decided instead to think about why she didn't like Val. Aside from being a rival, Val had actually broke her mind (although the girl seemed pretty much stable now) so that can't have helped things. Maybe it was seeing the person she was obsessed with obsessed with someone else who was far greater than you in rank and power. Perhaps that wasn't exactly a nice thing to witness.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack had Valentina in his arms bridal style as he flew through the air. He hadn't actually planned to but she'd passed out in the middle of flying and tumbled down, giving him a mini heart attack, although he'd been able to catch her. It reminded him of when he'd had to have Tooth catch him when he'd used all his power. He could, thankfully, see the North Pole from where he was, so it really wasn't that far away now.

Valentina murmured in her sleep and he smiled down at her. She really was lovely, especially when she was quiet (_sometimes_ when she was loud) and he was very glad to have her back, even if he'd only admit that to _her, _as it was quite embarrassing to know. She snuffled, a sign that she was about to wake up and he focused his attention back on her.

She opened her eyes and blushed at the proximity, turning her head sideways. "What happened?" He smiled down at her, fighting the urge to let the smile become a smirk. "You passed out, princess. Nightlight would have had a panic attack." He let a little arrogance and smugness enter his voice, to see how she might react.

She chuckled. "Nightlight is easily persuaded that I can take care of myself." She looked up at him. "You caught me? How chivalrous." She felt a lot happier than she had for a long while. Suddenly a light burned in her eyes.

"What the hell have I been doing?" She spread her wings and wriggled away from Jack to fly beside him, still holding his hand. "I am someone who can rescue him. Even if I don't succeed I'm damn well going to try."

In slight shock at her recovery, Jack squeezed her hand and smiled. "You need to be a tad stronger, Val. You can't rescue him at the moment. And do you really think he's completely helpless? He'll hold up until you're stronger." He did feel like a killjoy but he was damned if he would watch her hurt herself yet again doing something stupid before she had properly gotten over the emotional shock she was currently dealing with.

She nodded slowly, and her eyelids flickered. "I feel a little woozy… I guess if you don't fly for ages then it really takes it out on you." She clung to Jack again, a little wicked smile on her face as her slight weight managed to throw him a little off balance, and bring their collective altitude down.

"Ack! Cut it out!" He grabbed her waist and went red at the look on her face, a sort of smirk, and disbelief.

"So you ask me to cut it out and then grab me around the waist to make sure I can't…?"

He looked sideways. "Sh-shut up…" He flushed a few shades redder, and she laughed at him before kissing his cheek in a half apology, half laughing-at-him show of affection.

…

Sandy looked out the window and saw a very familiar pair of wings alongside the winter spirit. His jaw dropped as he realised what Jack had managed to do, and immediately worried about her flying in that condition of hers. He then hurried to where North was pacing up and down and tugged on his sleeve, trying to catch the man's attention. The large man shook him off, sadness plain in his eyes.

"Unless it is that Valentina has turned up or that the yetis are on fire, leave me be, Sandy."

Sandy nodded, creating a picture of Valentina, pointing and jumping up and down to catch the Guardian of Wonder's attention. North's big blue eyes widened with joy. "She has come back!" He raced past the Guardian of Dreams and started to leap along the corridor, hugging yetis at random. A scream of hung over agony came from Joker's room and Sandy watched with some amusement as the teen spirit (**A/N: Anyone notice what I did there? XD) **stumbled out of the room clutching his head, obviously annoyed with the sheer amount of noise that North was causing.

"Who's dying?" he hissed through clenched teeth, pain written over his features as sound made his headache worse. He turned and saw the Sandman helpless with laughter, eyes fixed upon his stricken self.

"Oh, shut up!" Joker followed North, and started huffily complaining under his breath about both Guardians present, calling them all sorts of names in all sorts of languages, while Sandy silently followed, mentally making a note to tell the Joker's girlfriend all about this particular mishap. She would definitely laugh, he noted. As Joker continued to curse them, Sandy hoped that the elves wouldn't pick up any bad language. North would complain to him if they did.

A window was opened by a yeti quickly enough to stop the young couple from becoming a grease stain and instead they turned into a crumpled, laughing heap of limbs and wings. Disentangling themselves, they stood up with their respective weapons of choice as leverage, checking said weapons for damage before turning to face everyone, Valentina audibly gulping at the crowd before her.

Upon seeing Valentina everyone stopped and stood there in silent relief and panic as to what she might do. Sandy in particular was extremely relieved. She waved uncertainly, half hiding behind Jack who laughed, quietly talking to her ("What's wrong? You can't be shy?" followed by hand holding and hugs, to coax her back to standing beside him) and North looked at her for a long time, frowning. She looked up uncertainly with her moon grey eyes, waiting for the Russian man to speak.

"You seem slightly different."

He reached out, gently taking Val's hand and she stayed still, looking up at him with a thousand apologies brimming over in her eyes, so that tears of regret raced down her cheeks as she flung herself into his waiting arms, which snatched her closely into a protective bear hug. He smiled warmly at her and the elves took this as a sign that _anyone _could hug her so that a sea of pointy hats attacked her ankles while the yetis edged towards her in a nonchalant manner. She crouched down and let the elves hug her, reaching an arm out to beckon the suddenly tearful yetis while Sandy fought his way through the scrum to hug her very tentatively and look at her with reproachful eyes. She hugged him back and he sighed, flicking her forehead. She clutched a hand to her head, mock – stricken, before blinking at the sight of a post drinking Joker. This in itself was a sight to behold, as his eyes were red and his hair was mussed, his red and yellow tee crumpled and his feet bare. He was moaning at the sound and consequently his headache's revenge for it.

"What's up with him?" she asked, obviously trying to keep a straight face. He growled something under his breath that had one of the yetis slap its paws over another yeti's ears.

_Eggnog, _signed Sandy with a little grin. She slapped her hands over her mouth, little muffled chuckles slipping out every now and then, while Joker slowly turned a million different shades of red, sputtering in indignation.

She tried to stop but then Jack caught on, bursting into loud, infectious laughter, and actually having to lean on a yeti for support. Val then completely lost it, before calming down when she realised that it was actually causing Joker a great deal of pain with all the noise. Once they had managed to calm down, they all watched as he stormed off, muttering about ungrateful Lunar Princesses who didn't know when people were very worried about them and didn't actually seem to care when they found out that people were worried. Val listened, trying to hear what he was saying and obviously not liking what she heard.

She made a face at his back, clapping her hands together so she was holding the infamous weapon. Before anyone could object, a large pot of green sauce had been tipped on Joker's head.

"VALENTINA, THIS IS NEITHER THE TIME NOR THE PLACE FOR PRANKS!" screamed North in a panic. She made another pouting face, and North caught the jar of jam that fell towards his head just in time.

"What is it with little princess and condiments?" He would have taken the staff but it was Val's soul i.e. touching it was like sticking your fingers in her brain. She simply shrugged before embracing every single yeti that was now crying and reaching out for the death hugs she gave. It was probably better that she was happy and not dejected, after all, for just by looking at her he could tell she had missed them.

And although Joker might be more than a little upset, and a whole lot happier if he knew that he had been missed by the heir to the Lunanoff throne, North decided to keep that particular bit of information to himself for the time being. After all, the lad had drunk his special eggnog, and if the hang over wasn't punishment for that he didn't know what was.

**REUNION! I know it isn't a particularly organised chapter but it's the best I can do for the moment…**


	5. Chapter 5

Hallow was dancing along the cold banks of the river that ran through York, weaving through a path of ghosts (including an arsonist who didn't dance very well) and stamping her feet in a weird tap/ jazz/ ballet/ contemporary mix. It looked joyful if you watched it, a lively and euphoric dance in the moonlight, but Hallow was extremely angry, and she had good reason to be.

First Valentina had disappeared to MiM only knows where. Oh wait, MiM didn't know! Because Valentina was surprisingly good at disappearing when she was upset. And then her boyfriend had started sulking around and caused a huge amount of snowstorms that were extremely annoying if you had to fly through them to get everywhere, like Hallow did, because they had a habit of being as unpredictable as Jack's moods i.e. very.

And that lovely son of the Nightmare King was dead, having sacrificed himself to save Val and Jack, because of that stupid Reaper who was obsessed with that weapon of his, causing even more prejudice against dark spirits like Hallow. People simply didn't want to know that Bran had been Hallow's friend too, they simply wanted someone to blame.

She flung back her wild dark hair, growling in annoyance as her ballet slipper clad feet beat out a rhythm that was suddenly similar to that of the Charleston. Her skirts swirled around and she flung her arms out as the adrenaline caught up to her and flung her metaphorically out to sea on a tidal wave of hormones, before her anger dragged her down again to thinking about the current situation.

Let's not forget that Hallow's own boyfriend had decided to do a runner as well and not turned up for three days! She wasn't clingy, but she was worried seeing as how several spirits had _died _recently. The arsonist seized her hand and started whirling her around and around. She smiled, knowing that he was trying to lift her spirits.

A dancing orange spirit caught her attention. Blood red braids hung around a pale face as this girl danced, and Hallow frowned. She seemed slightly familiar, and suddenly her Irish features caught the attention of those around her. Their own dancing slowed as they watched her, and her bare feet moved carelessly over the grass. As she was a ghost, the broken glass didn't bother her. A flock of ravens had gathered to watch her and she hollered.

Hallow suddenly recognized her as someone she had seen before, and as the dance ended she grabbed the girl's arm.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"What's it to you?" sneered the Irish girl. She didn't have an accent that fitted her looks, as it was extremely American. Hallow tightened her grip and grinned. "Tell me, ghost."

"Shan't." The dreadlocks were tossed, and the ghost shrieked as her arm was twisted behind her back.

"Wait, are you the Morrigan's daughter?" she asked softly and dangerously. Her blue eyes narrowed, and the other girl's red eyes widened. The Irish girl nodded, before sinking her teeth into Hallow's arm. The Spirit of Halloween yelped, and let her go. The girl fled, laughing a little, but it was shaky laughter.

So the Morrigan's daughter was still present…

Hallow gritted her teeth. That little witchy stuck up dark princess was the reason Grim had managed to get into the Christmas party. If she had managed to keep a hold of her she'd have made her responsible for her actions. She returned to her fire- obsessed dancing partner and swept her hat off of her head in a deep bow, and he winked at her.

"You've pretty manners for a dark one." He offered her his elbow and she grinned.

"Thank you, sir, but I have some personal issues to attend to. I can't go scaring the tourists with you tonight."

She summoned a cold wind to lift her up into the air, and soared up above the trees, searching for anything, while the arsonist good naturedly wandered off to scare the tourists that went on the ghost walks, who almost certainly didn't expect to see any ghosts.

As she flew forward, she looked for Joker. Okay, so he was three days late for meeting up, but she was only slightly worried. Maybe more than slightly.

But that girl was probably at Grim's side by now. As a dark spirit, she could feel the realms of death in her mind without going mad, but only if she tried, as she did now. Indeed, she had been right. The Morrigan's daughter was there.

A change in the breeze brought her attention back to her current location and she stiffened. She would know that brand of fear anywhere.

"Show yourself, Black." She dropped down into one of the trees. The shadows glided around her and she thought she saw a shadowy figure, but there was no sound in the darkness. She sent a wave of dark ghosts to seek out whoever it was and there were a few muffled sounds to her left.

Turning to see what they were, she gave a small shriek when a hand landed on her right shoulder.

"Dearest Hallow. Whatever can I do for you?" The Nightmare King's lip was curled in something close to disdain. She glared at him.

"Oh, such an unhappy face. Whatever can my mourning period come second to?" he asked her, bitterness creeping into his voice.

"The Morrigan's daughter was here, Pitch. The girl who probably is very close to Bran right now. The one who arranged for Grim to come to the party. She was at the ghost dance."

"You danced?" he asked her, almost hissing. She glared at the man and turned away from him.

"I have to. I always have to if there are ghosts, every night on the first." That was how she'd met Joker, while she was leading a dance along the streets of Chicago. He'd joined in and now he was doing something stupid, probably.

Pitch huffed, and disappeared to reappear a little way in front of her. "That slip of a girl doesn't know anything beyond her obsession with Grim. I am surprised that she turned up here, however." He tapped his foot on the ground and there was a silence as Hallow waited for him to continue.

"I am grateful that you told me of her presence." He faded and Hallow suddenly realised that she hadn't asked him why he was here in the first place. There was no way he'd come back even if she called him, which was annoying. Well, at least now Pitch was on the lookout for that little miss. Her hand started to throb from the teeth marks and she sighed, gathering shadows about herself to go back home so that she could treat it before it became infected.

She landed in her front garden, in the white sand that surrounded her house. The white sand stretched for about a mile and then faded to black. The night sky was apparently overhead, but her house was in the shadow realms, not the so called 'real world'. The house itself was a gigantic pumpkin that looked almost unreal in its size. A little wooden door had been fitted at the front and it was to this that Hallow was making her way. She brushed past the purple foxgloves on her way to the door and a little red imp fell out of one of the flowers, cursing before noticing Hallow and bowing in apology.

"Mistress!" It hopped up onto her shoulder as she went through the door, and seeing the bite went to fetch the antiseptic bottle, apologising as it poured the stinging liquid onto her wound.

"I'm fine, don't worry." She bandaged her own hand and sighed. If Joker didn't contact her soon she'd go and ask North where he was. True, sometimes North forgot where he put things but surely Joker was big enough not to be forgotten?

She cast her eyes around the curved orange walls of her home before heading to bed. Her feet still ached from the Ghost Dance.


	6. Chapter 6

Bran groaned as the fuming girl approached him, flinging herself down next to him. "I really hate your friends sometimes!" she muttered crossly, drumming her fingers in an odd beat on the metal floor of the doorless cell. He looked up, and rolled his eyes, sighing at her.

"Seeing as I have no other company for the time being, why don't you go ahead and tell me? Go on. Spill like I'm your blog." He laughed bitterly and she glared at him, red dreadlocks falling around her face, framing its anger rather spectacularly.

"Your stupid friend, the Halloween spirit, caught me dancing, and twisted my arm behind my back. And then she went wailing to your father so I can't go up to the surface anymore. She's such a cow." She ranted on like this for around five minutes before noticing that Bran wasn't paying attention.

"Hey! Listen up when I'm talking to you!" She tweaked his ear and he slapped at her hand in an annoyed manner.

"Why should I? It's always the same story. Blah, blah, I don't like your friends. Blah, blah, I'm in love with Grim. Blah, blah, listen to me." He rolled his eyes again and curled up. "You never listen to me, so why should I listen to you?" She gritted her teeth in fury, tears springing to her eyes when he imitated her, thinking it rather cruel. "You've no right to make fun of me!"

She stamped her feet childishly in a tantrum and he raised his amber eyes to look at her.

"How is that meant to make me like you? I don't want to talk to you. I'm fine with your voice chattering away, but I don't want to talk. You don't know much about me, so I don't see why you want to talk to me." He turned once again to the metal wall, hoping this might mean she would leave him alone.

Her eyes brightened like little poppies, and she grinned. "Then teach me about you! What's your favourite colour?"

"What? What the hell do you mean by that?" He tried to turn away but she was there, dreadlocks looking like live red snakes.

"I mean it! I want to find out about you! So what is your favourite colour?" She smiled as she repeated the question and he gave in.

"Grey." He frowned, and she poked a finger at his eyebrows, causing him to wince at her actions.

"Don't crease them. They're thin enough as it is. I'm guessing that's a gene from your dearest eyebrowless papa." She smiled at him once more and her own eyebrows went up as she tried to think of something else to ask him. He glared unhappily at the insult and huffed. "It's not my fault you have such thick uncute eyebrows," he muttered, and she gaped, shocked by his bluntness.

"How rude! You just have stupid eyebrows. What seasons do you like the best?" she asked, staring at him to guilt trip him into answering.

"Autumn's the only one I like. Is this seriously a good way to spend your time?" he asked, and a little smile crept onto his face. He yelled out suddenly and grasped at his shirt, hand hovering over his heart like he had been shot, and she blinked.

"Soldier. Dead. Gun." He spat the words out and she gripped his hand all of a sudden, making him freeze in surprise.

"Tell me about him." It was an odd request but he complied.

"His name was Bill. He was really cheerful and he had a wife and two kids back home in England. He saved his friend; he took a bullet for him."

She lost the cheerful look and looked down. "My mom's on that battlefield. She always loves seeing chaos and war. I'm not really that into seeing people's lives destroyed, but she always used to take me into the battles as a little kid. I'm twenty three now, but I always used to scream as a kid. Men would die and Mom would laugh hysterically. I hated it. Blood used to run everywhere and it looked like the earth was drinking it." She shivered, goose bumps appearing on her spectral form as she recalled the scarring memories.

To comfort her, Bran squeezed her hand haltingly. "I could tell you about when I was a kid…" She nodded quickly, looking a little green as the memories of war rushed through her mind. He smiled a little as he remembered his childhood. "These three women used to help my mom look after me. She was human, so they looked after me when my powers started to rise. One was called Elena, and she used to drill holes in pebbles and tie them in her hair. I used to be fascinated by them as a kid. She told me she picked them up off the beach and it helped her think about things if she held them."

The Morrigan's daughter looked up in surprise. "That sounds interesting." She lost the look of fear and smiled, red eyes dancing like fire. "My mother used to make thing out of nothing, like a golden cage to hold a butterfly or a bird made out of dust. She liked some pretty odd things. When I was eight she gave me a chain made from crystallized maple syrup. I tried to eat it and nearly broke my teeth." She chuckled, shaking her head. "She burst out laughing and I felt so embarrassed. It was a lovely tawny colour. Actually it was kind of like your eyes in colour."

Bran laughed, as a warm feeling took hold of his chest. "It's kind of nice to talk about our past, isn't it?"

She grinned. "I guess. It doesn't make me like Hallow any better. I don't think she likes me either after I bit her."

Bran made a face. "Probably why she told my father about you. I wouldn't have bitten her; it was a pretty stupid thing to do." The Morrigan's daughter made a face at him and made him snicker. "Maybe I'm just a pretty stupid person."

She vanished and he knew she'd gone to talk to Grim, and the loneliness hit him like a ton of bricks. As more ghosts surrounded him he felt a pang of something else, and frowned, trying to figure out what it was before its name hit him and sandbagged him.

_Jealousy._


	7. Chapter 7

Valentina was settled back in Jack's arms, drowsily singing. Every time she fell asleep a little, the song dropped out of tune, and her voice went a little higher or a little lower. It was about being left behind because you loved somebody, as far as Jack could see. He wrapped his arms around her a bit tighter while the familiar scent of North's cooking filled the air and the noises of the workshop joined the smell of cooking, the old lullaby lulling Jack to sleep. He slowly blinked his eyes and made sure his arms were still around her while the Sandman watched them from another chair.

The secret that the little man knew could shatter this scene apart like china dropped from a great height if he wasn't careful. It could destroy this relationship and split the Guardians apart. He needed to tell Valentina somehow but he also needed to keep it a secret. The young couple were so closely entwined, by little things like Val's hand on Jack's arm or Jack's foot wrapped around her ankle, that Sandy knew breaking such a thing apart was something that was near impossible.

The little song she had been singing petered out just as Jack fell asleep, the winter spirit's head landing on the girl's neck, signalling that Val had fallen asleep too. He saw her frown and wondered what she was dreaming about.

…

I looked around me, puzzled. Mountains loomed above me and they glowed with an achingly familiar light that tugged at my heart.

"Where am I?" I asked myself, unsure and a little frightened.

A high laugh came from nearby and I whipped round, staff at the ready, and in a defensive position.

"It's simple, you're home!" A little girl with grey eyes and black hair rushed out of a gap in the mountains, laughing.

I stared at her, noting the similarities.

"You're me?" I asked, stepping towards her. She nodded, and laughed in a carefree manner before skipping over.

"You are nice. But Daddy doesn't know about our secret." She giggled and pointed towards me, before her eyes widened.

"You don't know either, do you?" she asked me very softly, little wings unfurling. I shook my head and searched her face for a clue. She clapped her hands over her mouth and flew away from me, and the mountains stopped giving out any light as I cried for her to come back.

…

Sandy noticed the shadow that was trying to be unobtrusive, as well as the pained expression on Val's face.

He slipped towards it, a frown on his face, and stepped willingly into the shadows that pooled at his feet. He expected to be in Pitch's dreadful lair, not the woods of Burgess, but shook his head and went along with it.

"I do apologise, Sanderson. I was merely watching over her."

Sandy glared. _You can't control your sand, and she would have had a nightmare if you hadn't left! _He signed at his enemy, who snorted.

"I admit it took a darker turn, but it only went from one of your dreadfully sugary dreams to a slightly philosophical one, and regarded her problem, as one might call it. I take it you know about this as well?"

Sandy gaped, nodding. How on earth did Pitch know? He signed as much, and Pitch snorted again in a deliberately condescending manner.

"I have been around women long enough, Sanderson. I do know about some things that can happen to them." He remembered something suddenly.

"Oh, and if you want to know something she needs to? That little brat of the Morrigan's turned up at one of those ghost dances that insufferable Hallow girl hosts every time she goes to a new town."

Sandy felt his fists curl instinctively, and shook one behind Pitch's back. The man had no idea how hard Hallow had to work to arrange such things or how much she had to use her power to keep those ghosts from rampaging OR how much they soothed the ghosts, apparently. Reluctantly he let it slide and nodded. He knew that the Morrigan's daughter was extremely bad news, as before she had waltzed off Val had informed them that because of the scythe attempt, the ghostly girl was literally attached to Grim's power. She'd pointed out that the more powerful the girl would become, so would Grim.

Pitch pressed a hand to his forehead. "I saw those two. They really are happy together…" His voice softened slightly and Sandy looked at him, before the Nightmare King sent a shadow snaking towards him that deposited him back in the living room at the Pole.

Val woke up, and didn't move seeing as Jack was still asleep. She yawned, blinking, and moved a hand to wave at Sandy.

"Hey, Sandy?" She called him and he walked over, somewhat curious.

"Come talk with me while we wait for Frost to wake up. He doesn't look like he will anytime soon."

They both looked at the deeply asleep Jack and Val chuckled. "He always acts so tough, but his whole face goes ever so gentle while he's sleeping." She prodded her boyfriend's cheek and he murmured, frowning slightly. She grinned, before turning to Sandy.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked. Sandy thought and made a picture of a mermaid in the air.

"Mermaids? Okay. I'll tell you a story if you like." Val snuggled into Jack's arms and started to weave the words together in her mind.

…

Joker was walking along the corridors when he heard Val's voice drifting through the air. "She swam up through the waves, which lapped around her, clutching the cabin boy. As the water prickled her skin she realised a storm was brewing.

"So she tried to swim faster and faster but a sudden crash came, and she knew no more. When the cabin boy awoke, however, he'd been washed onto the beach, sand sticking to his wet clothes. He looked beside him and saw Valerie, now a beautiful human girl whose eyes shone with love, not pity. And they lived happily ever after, obviously."

Joker opened the door silently, seeing the black haired girl in Jack's arms. Frostbite appeared to be asleep, and the Sandman was listening with an expression of interest. He sat down as Val began another tale of a mermaid who gave three magic buttons to an evil prince who used them for ill, and a little girl who found them.

The flames flickered, and Buggy the yeti joined Joker in listening to the story, along with a couple of the elves. These sat in the purple haired boy's lap, mimicking Val and Jack without intending to, and he watched the fire cast shadows. Val drew her staff from her soul and balanced it on the floor, smoke coming out and forming the shapes of the mermaid.

"As the girl watched, something began to rise from the sea." Joker could have sworn he smelt salt, and he definitely heard the lapping of the waves as the smoke curled itself to form what she spoke of, Val's voice soothing them as they listened.

…

Sandy created a mermaid out of sand as Val finished, and an island. He pointed to himself and began to tell his tale.

_Where I live, there are mermaids. They sing, they laugh, and they swim among the waves in failing dusk. I always have known them, and they have always known me._

Val and the others paid attention to the symbols he formed to get the full story, as the Sandman created the moving representation of his tale.

_They were a part of my life that I thought a great thing, mothers to me when I was first alive. I was never alone, and when I was chosen, I took to my job with great joy, as I could repay them partly in this form. _

_And then I learnt that mermaids are apparently mythical. It shocked me, and I saw how desperately children believed in them. So for them, I would weave the dream sand so that they knew of my guardians. The mermaids are the guardians of one of the Guardians, so I consider them important. However, I sometimes cannot visit my home for days on end, so I do miss them, but whenever I see them they look healthier, and say it's because children believe in them. Even very old children believe in them._

Val gasped. "That's amazing. All this time I never knew that…" She fixed her eyes back on the Sandman who smiled as warmly as the flames in the hearth.

_Once, a sailor had been shipwrecked not far from the island. We saw him and they swam out to save him, and he came to live on the island. He never saw me, but being a sailor he believed in mermaids so could see them talking to me. Slowly, he began to understand their language, which I did of course, and when he grew old, he asked them who I was. When told, he was greatly surprised, and asked if I knew of his dreams. He dreamt of exploring the stars, of sailing a boat into space, so thanks to the mermaids I was able to create that for him. We then sent him home after that dream._

Val smiled slowly. "That's fantastic. Did he tell anyone?"

_Only his grandchildren. They were amazed, and passed the story on to their children. I'm rather pleased about that._

Val caught sight of Joker and waved. "Hello there!" Jack murmured something in his sleep and the yeti stifled a chuckle. Joker picked the elves up and came to sit on one of the chairs, while the yeti simply stood behind the teenage spirit, listening as the girl and the Sandman swapped tales merrily, and in Val's case somewhat tiredly.

**So what do you think? I know it isn't much to do with the plot but I hope you like it. Thanks to anyone who reviews, when I reach ten I'll do a chapter entirely from a requested characters point of view.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Finally a new chapter! Sorry for the wait! Hope it is okay…**

Jack woke up, a little stiff, to find black hair curled around his fingers. He relaxed, knowing who that belonged to, but suddenly screamed when someone touched the back of his neck with one cold finger. Val woke up, frowning in annoyance.

"What?" She had her staff ready but her eyes were still sleepy, meaning her aim would be dreadful. Jack held his hands up as Joker's laughter filled the air. They both turned to look at him with a glare.

"Oh, you should have seen your face, Jack!" he gasped, while Val stumbled to her feet, walking towards the door while clicking her fingers. They both turned to watch her, somewhat suspicious of what she was doing.

"What kind of weirdness is that?" they said in unison, before the elves appeared, looking up to Val.

"I need breakfast, please." She smiled at them and turned back to the boys. Jack stared at her before Joker spoke what they were both thinking.

"Surely you could have called them mentally instead of doing that frankly weird ritualistic thing?" he asked shakily, purple hair falling forward to cover his eyes. She made a face and a crash was heard from outside, along with a muffled string of curses in an oddly familiar voice. Having recovered from the shock of the sound, Val motioned the boys closer to the door. She went closest to it, leaning against it seconds before it slammed open, knocking her out. Jack yelped and dived forward to catch her falling body before it hit the stone floor of the room. She was breathing lightly, but out for the count.

Hallow stood there with ghosts whirling around her stormily, glaring at Joker with a gaze to match.

"Where. Have. You. BEEN?" she asked dangerously, her face very scary. He shrugged, setting off the completely furious Halloween spirit.

"I haven't heard from you in days. You just vanished, and while I tried not to worry myself into a coma or something, you were apparently getting bloody _drunk. _You decided that instead of talking to me you'd have a cosy moment with the eggnog. What the hell is wrong with you, do you think I'd be okay with you doing something like that, that I wouldn't worry about you?" Her eyes blazed and he held up his hands.

"Hallow, just let me explain…" he pleaded, eyes scanning the room for a place to escape or to hide behind – any protection from his fuming girlfriend.

She shook her head, turning away. "No, I'm not going to listen!" Her eyes suddenly stopped their fiery onslaught and seemed soft and upset, but her black hair hid her face as she knelt to check Val. Joker wished he had the courage to go near her and wrap his arms around his girlfriend. Who he had admittedly ignored for the last couple of days, due to what he would prefer to call a personal crisis. He knew that going near her in this mood was not a very good idea, but it didn't stop him wanting to do so.

"Did I do that? Sorry." She slapped Val gently around the cheeks until the latter's eyelids fluttered, and the grey eyes were open and blinking in confusion.

"Do I smell roasting pumpkins?" she asked, and then saw Hallow toying with such a thing. The pumpkin was purple, so that sent out _such _a clear message. Joker, who had nearly summoned up the courage to approach Hallow, went to collapse in a miserable heap on the chairs instead. Val frowned once more, and turned to her friend as the latter started to juggle the pumpkin while glaring at the purple haired spirit.

"Did I miss anything?" She spaced out for a few seconds and then shot a spell towards Joker which hit a chair instead. It turned into a tree, and Joker yelped in fear while Jack patted Val's shoulder, trying and succeeding in calming her down.

"Calm down. Let them sort it out," he advised, and Val nodded towards the flaming pumpkin Hallow was now studying with interest and a grin that didn't quite match the expression in her eyes.

"She is so going to go psycho on his miserable butt if we do that," she pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Jack privately agreed, but he also didn't want Val mixed up in a fight. He hoisted her to her feet, muttering about breakfast and leading out of the room.

Breakfast was indeed nice, if disturbed by random explosions and the sound of two people arguing. The elves huddled under the table and Val sighed.

"I know that they are excitable people but I have a headache. Can't they shut up?" she asked, while Jack bit his lip as he thought.

"It would be nice if they shut up," he said finally, skewering a piece of scrambled egg, "but do you really want to be the person who asks them to? It's a slight war zone up there and while they might be sorry if you were caught in the cross fire you still might get hurt."

She looked at him for a few minutes before smiling.

"Are you worried for me, Frost?" she asked slowly, a grin on her lips. He blushed a slight blue and turned away, feeling the blood turning his ears a dark shade of blue before Val laughed.

"Well, I'll be. You are!" She leant forward and kissed his cheek gently. He muttered something and she smiled.

"Didn't quite catch that…" she said, mock sadly. He looked at her.

"I said, yeah, I am. So don't go up there, just stay here, eat your breakfast and wait until the explosions stop."

She sat on his lap heavily. "Of course I will. Because there's no way that you're going up there either, is there?"

A _boom _sounded and Joker's voice shouted something, Hallow screaming back. This was quickly followed by yet another explosion sound. Val sighed again.

"So noisy…" She stabbed a piece of bacon from Jack's plate and ate it before he could reclaim it. He frowned at her.

"Hey, get your own!" he protested, but she held up a hand, finished eating and blinked.

"It wouldn't taste the same if it weren't stolen," she said, grinning. Jack glared at her.

"You're this close to a snowball up your perfect cute nose if you do that again, do you know that?"

**Reviews? Thoughts? Favourite? Follow? Anything?**


	9. Chapter 9

**If you need music to this, I find the best for this chapter is Smile like You Mean It by the Killers. I'm very happy to have this read by you all, and hope the emotional ups and downs aren't too much of a change from The Winged Girl's humour genre.**

**Thanks! Please review!**

In the cold Underworld, Grim was relaxing before he picked up his scythe. It trembled and he immediately sensed that something was very wrong with the spirit who fuelled his power. Clicking his fingers he called the Morrigan's daughter forward.

"Find out what's wrong with him. Quickly." He glared at her and she turned into a grey mist, inside the scythe's world.

It was terrifying to see the state Bran was in. He had curled up with a black sandstorm swirling about him and the images of people who had died flickering around him. Tormented faces changed with each passing second, while the emotion on their faces was the same. But Bran's face couldn't be seen for the hair covering it, and that scared the Morrigan's daughter the most.

She looked around the room he was in and noticed for the first time exactly how horrible it was. No doors, no windows, just four metal walls and a floor of the same. No comfort furnished it, no fie provided the strange light she was just able to see by. It was threatening in a way, and so clinical. She was aware of Bran moving about and turned back to look at him.

"What?"

"I don't even know your name!" he screamed at her, a few tears racing down his cheeks. He glared at her before continuing.

"Why? Why are you dead? You're obsessed with that…" He trailed off and dropped his face again. The Morrigan's daughter felt a stab of something – she wasn't sure what – pierce her heart and stay there like a shard of ice.

He was dead too! He may not have technically been killed but he was as good as! And she'd chosen to die for love, wasn't that surely romantic? She hadn't exactly meant to die, but she had, and she was still in a way living on. And what did he care? He was just in love with Valentina and desperate to get back to breaking his heart watching her and Jack spiral further down falling in love with each other.

Suddenly, she felt like a dam had broken somewhere and knelt beside him. She reached out and held his hand so that he would look at her.

"Alexa Sidhe-na- Morrigan," she said, in a quiet tone. He frowned at her, not quite understanding. She moved so that she was sitting in front of him, orange dreadlocks making a soft noise as they scraped along the floor.

"That's my name. You said you didn't know it. That was my name while I was alive. And…"

Bran felt his heart pang with another stab of emotion as she told him something he was sure that Grim did not know. He looked into her eyes.

"Thank you." He muttered it and to Alexa it felt like a bullet or maybe a damnation; gratitude from someone whose death she had helped to cause, not really thinking about him, just about harming or hurting Valentina. And he had meant to sacrifice himself for a platonic love.

She realised now that while he loved Valentina, it was as a friend, a friend who he loved deeply and would do anything for. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, but to save Valentina from unhappiness.

She backed away, and fell from the scythe onto the floor of the vast cavern of Grim's throne room. The eternal Lord of Death sat on his throne of emerald skulls, and glared at her.

"Is he better? My scythe is not working as it should. Go back, and…" he lowered his voice so that it practically dripped with venom, "_don't come back until my power is as it should be!"_

She felt stabbed, almost. He was looking at her with such annoyance and hatred that it was blatant he felt nothing but those emotions for her. He'd been so kind! And she'd given up her family for him, to save him from the void he had assured her he might be swallowed into if his scythe was not repaired. After that hadn't worked, of course she had helped him control the ghost with what little power she had left, helped him with his plans to get Valentina into the scythe, and given everything up for him. She fled, spectral tears spilling over and disappearing before they hit the floor, collapsing in a heap and sobbing.

He had used her, and she had been stupid enough to trust him so much so that he was able to do so. He hated her, hated her presence and just wanted her powers, saw her as a tool to get more power and probably stopped her mom from attacking him by saying he would hurt her. It was like she had been soaked with cold, icy water; the shock travelled up and down her veins, causing damage to her heart with every second. Arms wrapped around her suddenly and she was shushed and rocked just as if she was five again, while she cried into the other's shoulder.

"He made you cry? I hate him!" Bran growled, patting her back so that she could cry as she needed to. Alexa finally started to stop crying, but Bran didn't want to let her go. He wanted to protect her against Grim, stop her from loving him.

He didn't know why he had fallen for Alexa. He'd already fallen for Val before he had realized it was just a crush and that he was happy she was in love with Jack, but now he had fallen once more for a beautiful girl who was in love with someone else. Only this time, that someone else was a bloody prick with no sense of how to behave, and a seriously obsessive addiction to power.

Why, why couldn't he have met Alexa while she was alive?

…

In the kitchen, Pitch was waiting for his crumpets to pop out of the toaster when he heard a little sniffling sound.

Turning, he saw Valentina staring in confusion, fingers finding the tears that were sweeping down her cheekbones, and heard her say in a shocked little voice, "Bran!"

He raced towards her, but Jack leapt in front of him, not understanding, and he stared helplessly over the winter spirit's shoulder at the crying girl who was the only link between him and his son. Val stood up and looked at him.

"I don't know what's wrong…" She said it, shocked, as she tried to reach into the Underworld telepathically.

"Stop it! You could go mad if you send your mind to Grim's realm!" Pitch warned her, and Jack stepped aside as he realised what was happening, instead placing his hands on her shoulders.


	10. Chapter 10

Valentina sighed as she sat next to the Nightmare King. She had promised to tell him what he needed to know about his son.

"My empathy is a gift Grim does not know I possess," she said slowly, "so he hasn't blocked it. That means I have just felt what Bran was feeling. And let me tell you, it wasn't exactly a picnic." She tried to grin, but ended up with tears in the corners of her eyes.

Pitch nodded, but his eyes held hers. He had to know. An image flashed into his head of Bran as a toddler, chasing butterflies made of black sand, giggling whenever his chubby baby hands brushed against their coarse wings, while he, Pitch, looked on with one arm around Lowri and a smile on his face. He pushed that memory away and composed himself. That would only bring more memories back, and he had to stay strong for the moment.

"What was he feeling?"

Val gripped her hair and blinked away a couple of tears. "Sadness, anger, love, regret, jealousy and every single death. Every one. That nearly turned _me _mad, when I experienced it, and I'm a practised telepath. I have no idea what sort of mental state he might be in now."

Pitch took this in silently. If he were to guess what sort of state Bran was in, he would turn mad himself. But love? Surely that was a sign that Bran had let go of his firm grip on sanity, for there were only ghosts to give his heart to in the Underworld. A horrible thought struck him – if Bran had indeed fallen in love, he might not want to return to the world of the living.

Valentina gripped his hand as she heard his thoughts, even though the action reminded them both of that fateful night.

_**I know you're worried, but I will resurrect a ghost if that is what it takes to bring him back, **_she mentally promised him. _**He is my best friend – what makes you think that I am willing to lose him?**_ The strong look in her eyes was strikingly reminiscent of her grandmother, chilling down his backbone – for it had been Pitch who had murdered Tsarina Lunanoff. He remembered a thousand bad memories of the past in a rush of emotion and bowed his head as Val still looked at him in the eyes.

Pitch sighed, breaking their mental connection and standing up. "I had better go and make myself some form of lunch. Jack probably needs to tell you how evil I am or something along those lines." He walked to the door. It had been a lie of course – he needed to think. Val was so worried about Bran that she hadn't taken notice of anything about herself, and at least Jack could get her to rest. She sorely needed sleep at such a time and was not sleeping well on her own, but at least getting her to actually fall asleep and relax was something the frosty pest was good at.

Jack hugged her shoulders. "You okay?" he asked, and she nodded absently while thinking. She was running through resurrection spells. The demon resurrection she was unsure of, as it required powdered bone, but there were a couple that she could probably use if she needed to. Finally, after setting aside the spells mentally, she hugged him back with a smile.

"We're going to rescue him, you know," Jack murmured into her hair. "Whatever it takes. He gave his life for _us."_

She nodded and breathed out, feeling some of her stress melt away from her and lessen her headache.

"He is our friend," she murmured, and turned to look at Jack. "We're so going to kick Grim's skinny ass."

Jack felt a chuckle escape his throat. "Language!" he scolded mockingly, hugging her closer. He knew how safe this gesture always made her feel, how much she needed it, and how much his safety meant to her.

…

That night, Valentina dreamt of her father's halls again. Her father held her hands as she looked around to make sure that she was where she thought she was.

"My child… you sent your spirit here. I take it you have need of me?" His kind face looked towards hers and she nodded, kneeling down to hug him. All at once she felt like the silly little girl who flew into buildings and giggled when she saw her father's shadow, like she knew truly nothing of the world. She wished it could have stayed that way forever, that Fabian wasn't dead and that she was still six years old. He stroked her hair comfortingly.

"You know that your friend is not dead," he said finally, and she nodded. She knew that all right.

"But Father, he is in a fate worse than death. And everyone is worrying about something, or a child, and I don't know what to do! I thought I did, but I don't!"

He hushed her, smiling with that unchanging kindness in his eyes. "You have been taught by the world. Use your sense, those lessons, and your heart. Treat your heart as a compass, and you will do right."

She knew what he was saying, and nodded. "Thank you, Father, for your advice. But what if Bran doesn't want to be rescued? Pitch was right; he might not want to return. And he may never be the same after this."

Her father smiled once more. "Don't give up on a phoenix just because it hasn't yet learnt to fly. Bran may be in love, but he is not in love with his surroundings. You can count on that. The prince is spoilt, arrogant, and selfish, he will not like giving up Bran. I will not lie to you, my daughter; you have a long battle on your hands. But you mustn't give up on your friend."

The truth in his words seemed to ring true all across her soul, and she opened her eyes to find herself back in her room. Her father was right, as he mostly was, and she silently vowed that she would rescue Bran, that she wouldn't give up on him.

…

Alexa felt slightly disillusioned with Grim, but managed to look up at Bran. "Many people already hate him, Bran Black. You are simply one in a multitude." He hugged her closer and she felt like she might cry with relief. Someone was showing her affection. It had been so long, and she felt starved. She missed her mother, she truly did, and Bran was singing some sort of lullaby under his breath.

He deserved to be rescued, even if she didn't.

**So! Review if you have indeed read this, as I haven't got any reviews for a while (cries) and keep on reading!**

**Snow out!**


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